BR Redux

We return to one of my favorite topics, and one of your most hated.

Some recent developments in my abominable world of Butt Rock (BR):

**A lot of work places have "Hawaiian t-shirt Fridays" and "casual Fridays." Both are lame and boring -- not to mention overdone. So I instituted Butt Rock Fridays. Fundamentally, this consists of me listening to some BR on my iPod during the morning hours at work and then wearing a BR t-shirt with my jeans.

As a testament to my lack of courage, however, the latter has yet to happen, due to the fear that I would get called into some ad hoc meeting and have to give a presentation to some higher-ups while sporting a t-shirt that has "JUDAS PRIEST" or "SCORPIONS" plastered all over the front -- all because I felt like celebrating "Butt Rock Friday." (I imagine that this feared scenario would be like me competing on Iron Chef while wearing nothing but an apron. I'd be exposed. Vulnerable. All while trying to demonstrate knowledge in something that the spectators likely know more about than I do.)

**AM affectionately labeled me her "butt rock king," as she and MM were my road trip compatriots that partook in a powerhouse butt rock compilation CD I made. It was a 17-track assault on (and affront to) Mozart, Beethoven, and all things artistically beautiful; an auditory massacre. And yet it was somehow quite sing-alongable.

The CD did its job and kept me alert in the late hours of the night. I have found that it is difficult to fall asleep at the wheel of a car while you are continuously dry-heaving/mocking the stupidity of something. Or singing along.

**A few months ago, I penned an entry laying out the fundamentals of the BR genre, and concluded off-handedly that I should teach a Music History class on the topic.

Hadn't thought about it since then, as it was a joke.

Well, apparently the nether regions of my brain thought it was an idea worth exploring, and did so for four months whilst I remained unaware. My sub-conscious presented its work to me in a ridiculously vivid dream in which I was the professor of a Butt Rock History course, the first of such classes at any major university. In the dream I was preparing a powerpoint presentation for my first day of class. I was quite frazzled; literally stressing about the order of my slides and how I should present the material in a cohesive way to the auditorium of 300-400 students.

Yes. I am out of my mind. But if you haven't deduced that by now, perception may not be your thing.

My one regret from the dream is that I didn't catch a glimpse of the demographic of my students. Would have been absolutely priceless.

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"I'm a Moron" Series - Part 3: Food Injury

Can't believe it's been a year+ since I last wrote about having an "I'm a moron" moment. I assure you, it is not from lack of idiocy on my part. Far from it.

Anyway. To the present.

You know those thin metal lids they have on Yoplait yogurt containers? I think I just cut my tongue on the torn, jagged edge of one -- just because I was trying to get the extra 0.034 oz. of yogurt on the inside of the lid.

Are these things FDA-approved? Or have they managed to somehow fly under the radar? Yoplait's brazen disregard for public safety is appalling. They should just start putting syringes in their yogurt and call it good. Or flip us the middle finger in their commercials. The gesture of either of those is about the same as these lids, in my opinion.

Man. It's like a papercut. Only infinitely more humiliating.

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Deadliest Warriors -- Photo of the Week 25 May 2009

Late posting. Was on some vacation.

Taken from the blog at foreignpolicy.com, with a caption that reads:

"Belarussian special forces soldiers use a sledgehammer to break flaming bricks on their backs in Minsk" (emphasis added)

I don't claim to know what is going on in the former Soviet republics, but man.

Anybody seen this show called Deadliest Warrior? Talk about a rallying point for all Renaissance Fair and Quill & The Sword types. This show spends an hour simulating ancient warriors (ie Spartan vs. Ninja, etc) fighting against each other, then has a real-life re-creation at the end. Geeks unite.

Anyway, I showed Josh M this photo and here was the ensuing IM conversation:

JoshM: dude, that belarussian guy needs to be on deadliest warrior
Me: dude is nuts
JoshM: this week they are doing the braveheart guy versus shaka zulu
Me: maybe they'll bring in mel gibson for the re-enactment
JoshM: and wesley snipes as shaka zulu
Me: wesley snipes could use the employment. i don't know if portraying mel gibson killing shaka zulu would do well for his already racist image
JoshM: good point
JoshM: he may have turned down the offer

Too bad.


You better have had a happy Monday, what with the day off and all. And taken a second to remember why we had the holiday.

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I See No Connection -- Photo of the Week 18 May 2009

Took this up in Kensington, MD.

Not quite sure where the tobacco fits in in this combination.

Something like unto Cal telling Ricky Bobby that they go together like "cocaine and waffles"? Maybe?





Man, I love Talladega... in all of its Shake'n Bake stupidity.

Happy Monday, everyone. Let's keep it real today.

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My Guilt-trip to You, the Reader

A lot of companies have a pledge to their customers that they will provide a quality product, or they will do their best to keep the customer happy, or some other nonsense. This is not one of those. This is to make you appreciate more of what I do for you day-in and day-out.

Dear RoSA Readers,

As I stood in line at Chipotle the other day, deciding on whether I wanted a Barbacoa or a Carnitas burrito, I glanced down at the Judas Priest concert t-shirt I was wearing and thought to myself: "What the hell was I thinking when I put this thing on before I went out into public?"

Tracing back my thought processes, I think I tried to justify the decision by saying that it was hot outside, and that the butt rock t-shirt was so tissue paper-thin it was like I wasn't even putting another layer of clothing on. It would keep me cool.

The more I thought about how stupid that reason was, I realized the real reason I had done it: I had no blog-worthy material that week, and was sub-consciously hoping that wearing Judas Priest in a public place would serve as a catalyst for something interesting.

(Yes. You're reading that correctly)

As it turned out, nothing happened. I've never been so disappointed with the expectations of an idea that has such great potential, but that ultimately ends up being a colossal letdown (perhaps with the exception of the Wolverine movie). I was hoping for something from my fellow Chipotle'ers: Suspicious glares; a hurled insult; extra meat in my burrito because the employees think I'm homeless based on appearance. The best would have been jaws dropped aghast in shock -- a la Arnold walking into the bar butt naked in Terminator 2 (see below). But really, I would have taken anything.





Shoot, even a brawl with some angry bikers who didn't like Judas Priest when they were growing up would have made a great story...you know, after I got out of the hospital.

Nothing.

Like I said. You'd better appreciate what I do for you, readers.

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